


Watch Them Fall

by chwangdol



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gets Not So Wholesome, Kid Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Nikandros (Captive Prince), Starts Out Wholesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwangdol/pseuds/chwangdol
Summary: “They will live very good lives, as the son of a King and the son of a Kyros.”Nikandros returns from Vask with two sons.Not a wholesome kidfic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is your final warning that this may start out wholesome, but it will not end up there.
> 
> My first CP fic and probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written.

Nikandros finds himself dreading his trips to Vask. The destination itself is not so bad, he has no problem with Vask or it's people, but the trip is another story.

Perhaps it would be fine, with a travel companion who is not Vannes. As far as Veretians go, Nikandros supposes she is not the worst, but that doesn’t make her constant teasing any better.

She seems to always know the perfect buttons to push to get Nikandros rubbing his face in agony. The most frequent one being, “Oh, you sound just like Laurent.”

It’s Vannes fault that the task of dealing with Vask has fallen so heavily on him. Having been stationed in Delpha, he’s one of the few Akielons that has even a basic grasp of Vaskian, but he’s mostly here because Vannes had told Laurent and Damianos that she finds him, “great fun,” and that, “All the women in Vask  _ love  _ him.”

The clans do indeed consistently ask for him to participate at the coupling fire, but, to be completely honest, Nikandros never remembers a single bit of his nights after the hakesh.

He may feel wrung out the day after, satiated enough he feels like he will not be able to enjoy another bed partner for at least a month, but that in no way makes up for Vannes incessant banter, or the blindfolds they require as they lead them to their camps. 

This trip feels shorter than the others, and sure enough they are not in as large of camp as usual when they are finally allowed to see again. He’s not sure if it’s relieving or concerning that Vannes looks just as confused as he feels.

“Our presence was requested,” Vannes says, sounding more like a question than a statement and slow enough that Nikandros can understand.

The woman who seems to be the leader of the small camp says something to Vannes, too fast for Nikandros to catch, but then she looks to Nikandros and speaks again, slower.

“This is not a usual meeting,” she tells them, and then leads them to a tent with room for them all to sit. 

The food and drink they are given is different enough from what Nikandros has seen at the coupling fires that he feels safe partaking.

Vannes and the leader fire Vaskian back and forth, much too fast for Nikandros to catch. Vannes looks uncharacteristically concerned.

Eventually the leader motions to one of the servants, who nods and leaves the tent. Nikandros finds himself growing tense the whole while she’s gone. When she does return, she is not alone. 

The woman who arrives in front of her is holding a bundle of furs, Nikandros stands on instinct, and is greeted with the sight of a swaddled babe. 

“He is not yet a year,” the woman tells him, and then looks embarrassed.

“This is Editka,” the leader announces, and then leaves it at that.

Editka begins to speak again, slowly and well-pronounced, clearly for Nikandros’s benefit.

“All of the other women you partnered with gave the clan strong girls,” she tells him, and Nikandros’s thoughts are jumping around uselessly as he stares at the babe.

“All except for me,” she clarifies, “I realize now, that this is a sign. This babe, and his brother, they will live wonderful lives with their fathers, lives they would not live as men in Vask.”

_ Brother. _

The word shocks Nikandros out of his daze enough to notice another child was brought in along with the babe, bigger than the one in Editka’s arms, but certainly not even a full year older.

“I was given a second chance to breed a strong warrior for the clan, but I was given this son as a sign instead,” she holds out the bundle to him, “He is yours, as is his brother, if your Kings accept him.”

Nikandros takes the child from her wordlessly, it is lighter than he had expected, the fur blankets that bundle it giving it a misleading bulk. 

“His brother is King Damianos’s?” he asks, dumbly in Akielon, and then again in stuttered Vaskian.

Editka nods, “Also the only boy from his seed,” the servant comes closer to give him a better look at the older child.

He is dressed in a tunic and leggings, with fur booties and hat. There is no doubt he is Damen’s son, it is obvious by size alone. 

“They are ten months apart,” Editka tells him, and Nikandros would be shocked by Vaskian practices if he did not already know them. Editka clearly has the shape for childbearing, especially one for bearing strong sons it seems, “We named him Vasil. A small name for such a large child, but I was told it was a fitting name.”

Nikandros does not bother to ask who, his thoughts are too muddled to form useful questions at the moment. 

“Yours I named Leon. None of us had ever seen a babe’s hair grow so quickly,” she tells him, with a small smile and twinkle in her eye.

Nikandros can do nothing but stare at both of the children for a good while, and it takes Vannes coming into his peripheral vision for him to say anything useful, “And the empress will allow this?”

Vannes clears her throat and holds up a sealed note, “I am informed this is her blessing,” she says in Vaskian, and then adds in a quicker mix of Veretian and Akielon, “You must understand, it means very little for Vask to give up two sons,” she looks at Editka with a sympathetic expression, “For the general population at least.”

Nikandros nods in understanding, and then addresses Editka, in his very best Vaskian, “They will live very good lives, as the son of a King and the son of a Kyros.”

Editka nods, “I trust they will.” 

Vannes speaks again, “We will leave with them tomorrow then,” she announces, “Editka will accompany us to care for them and present Vasil to the Kings.”

Editka looks surprised by this, but doesn’t argue.

And that is how they end up on their way to Marlas with two babes in their party.

Vannes sends a vague message ahead of them, informing the kings to be at the palace for their return, and Nikandros is left with a feeling of unease at all of this being a surprise, although he understands the risk of sending even a coded message informing the kings that this small party is bringing them King Damianos’s child. 

Editka leaves once they find a wet nurse in Delpha. She claims it is better this way, and the more cynical part of Nikandros agrees. The last thing they need is Editka suddenly deciding she would like a place with her sons, or realizing what all she could demand in exchange for them. 

They introduce Vasil to his new fathers first in private. Damen’s reaction to his son is similar to the reaction Nikandros had to Leon. 

Laurent’s expression goes surprisingly soft at the boy still dressed in Vaskian clothes. Vasil seems entranced by Laurent’s blonde hair, and if Nikandros had any doubt that this was Damianos’s son, it would vanish at that. 

Vasil was quiet the whole trip, speaking only in hushed whispers to his mother. It had worried Nikandros, although he made no comment. 

He finally speaks now, to proudly point to Damianos and announce, “Baba.”

Nikandros sees the moment his friend’s heart melts completely. 

The public takes the news of a surprise prince fairly well. In Delpha it seems to come as a relief. The general population have benefited greatly from the union, and understand that should the union break, their home will be war-ridden once more. 

There are some lords who seem less than thrilled by the discovery of an heir, perhaps they thought the throne might somehow become available to their children one day.

Leon is met with considerably less fanfare from the public, but with considerable awe from Damianos. 

He is quick to offer Nikandros a position in Marlas so that the two may be raised as brothers. 

Laurent frowns at the word, “brothers,” and Nikandros finds himself worrying as well -- until he hears Vannes voice in his head, telling him he sounds like Laurent. They will be like him and Damianos, he tells himself, not like Damen and Kastor. 

It is not long before Vasil becomes comfortable in his new home. He has taken to whispering to Laurent like he used to his mom, but talks and babbles with great volume when Damen is around. 

“No,” is of course, his most used word, to the point that Nikandros has been lovingly deemed Nono, Damen is still Baba, and Laurent is Papa. Nikandros is amazed he can differentiate between those subtle noises at such a young age. 

His favorite person to say “no,” to is, surprisingly, Leon. If Vasil is around when Leon starts to cry, there will always be a stern, “No,” said from the boy, sometimes followed by shushes, depending on what kind of mood Vasil is in. 

He says “No,” even louder whenever Leon pulls at Laurent’s hair -- something he’s gotten into the habit of doing lately, much to Nikandros’s amusement. 

But most of the time, his No’s are less needed. Leon slobbering on his hand? No. Leon babbling like a normal infant of his age? No. Someone picks up Leon? No. Someone tries to brush his or Leon’s hair? A very angry no.

Although it is clear he loves both his parents, it is also clear he has become attached to Laurent very quickly. Nikandros isn’t sure what the appeal is, but Vasil seems to find his Papa fascinating. 

With his size, he hardly even needs to squirm to get away from the servant’s grasps, instead he barrels through arms outstretched to grab him so he can instead follow Laurent. They have finally given up and let him follow his Papa to meetings and the library. Some of the courtiers look scandalized to be talking strategy while one of their kings has a giant of a toddler on their lap, but others seem to find it charming (or at least amusing).

It doesn’t take long for it to look a little ridiculous. By two Vasil is half Laurent’s height, yet still insists on being carried by him and to sit on his lap rather than Damen’s. 

Damen doesn’t seem too bothered by not being the favorite, instead he seems all the more enamoured with his ridiculous family. 

Leon, on the other hand, is in a stage of wanting to do everything himself, and cries when picked up. His name is fitting for more than just the mop of hair on his head. He is also  _ loud. _ He has no interest in whispering like Vasil did, instead he likes to shout all the words he knows whenever anyone will listen and especially when people are trying to tune him out.

He also likes to throw things, and has no interest in listening to Nikandros’s scoldings of, “You cannot throw things at him! He is your king!” (or future king, when Vasil is the victim). Laurent seems to find these scoldings incredibly amusing, and Nikandros swears he’s seen him encourage Leon to throw foods at Damen during dinner. 

It starts to become increasingly clear, that their kids are the opposites of them as children. Nikandros hopes their relationship can still mirror theirs.

Leon grows out of throwing things -- to Nikandros’s knowledge at least. Vasil does not grow out of his attachment to Laurent, but he certainly grows.

He’s a giant of a child, to no one’s surprise, and looks ridiculous trying to imitate Laurent’s mannerisms. Damen tries to subtly ease him away from imitating him, but of course Damen can not do anything subtly, and it ends with Vasil demanding why Damen doesn’t want him to be like his papa. 

He at least puts just as much of his energy into physical pursuits as he does mental ones, which is more than can be said about his own son. Leon can’t seem to sit still, even through the length of a short dinner.

It doesn’t help that Makedon visits and tells Leon that books are best used fixing an uneven table leg. 

After Makedon’s visit, Leon throws down his book during reading for a different reason than usual; he fixes a half glare half pout at Laurent, “This new book you gave me only has one page!” 

Nikandros is surprised he’s complaining. 

Laurent’s acted concern is hardly his most convincing of performances. He takes the book from Leon to see that yes, indeed, this tale of a brave knight slaying a half-man, half-serpent is cut off at the first page. Then he makes a show of something catching his eye. 

He lifts a leg of his desk and brings an identical book to Leon’s attention, “It seems this tale is in volumes,” he tells him, “And it seems the rest of them have been shoved under table legs.”

Laurent lets out a dramatic sigh, “What a pity, I just had those commissioned for you, Leon.”

Leon doesn’t seem to recognize the reference to Makedon’s comment, but the idea of running around the palace to find the rest of his story seems to spark his interest, and Laurent’s over-acted sadness is enough to have Leon determined. 

“Don’t worry,” he tells him with a determined nod, “I’ll find the rest of the books for you.”

Laurent’s face lights up at Leon’s promise, “Make sure you read them in order when you do,” he reminds him, with a ruffle of his hair, and then Leon is shooting out of the library in a giddy run.

Nikandros meets Laurent’s eyes before he refocuses on the letters in front of him. 

“Do you think it wise to have him running around the palace like that?” he asks.

“Lazar is going to be watching him,” Laurent assures him, “He’s good at keeping an eye on Leon without him knowing.”

Nikandros does know. It was their solution to Leon throwing tantrums at having guards trail after him, “His safety wasn’t really what I was worried about.” 

To his surprise, that makes Laurent laugh, “This country is still half-Veretian. He’ll have to get used to it.”

Nikandros frowns at that. He is not looking forward to the boys being exposed to anything more Veretian than what is already at the palace in Marlas.

Not long after, Damen and Vasil join him and Laurent in the library. Damen informs them he saw Leon running and was unable to stop him, and Laurent assures him that he was not running away from his reading time like usual. 

Vasil doesn’t seem interested in hearing about Laurent tricking Leon into caring about books, instead he greets Laurent with kisses on both his cheeks and pulls a chair over so he can sit at Laurent’s desk with him. He looks down at the pile of papers there thoughtfully and begins his usual routine of pointing to unfamiliar words and asking Laurent what they mean.

Damen watches them fondly for a while before turning to Nikandros for a discussion in hushed tones -- they still get shushed by Vasil several times. 

It’s not long before they can see the sunset in the library’s window, and Vasil is told to go bathe. 

His chair scraps loudly against the floor when he gets up, and his footfall as he approaches to bid Nikandros and Damen good night is just as loud. 

Vasil’s posture is perfect as he stands in front of them. Damen looks overly fond, as always. 

“Good night, Pater,” he tells Damen with a small bow of his head, and then looks to Nikandros, “Good night, Nik-and-dros.”

Nikandros is left stunned as the boy leaves the library. He had gone from  _ Nono  _ to Nik in the past few years, but that is the first time the boy has attempted his full name. 

Damen and Laurent both look moments from a fit of laughter. Laurent is going a little red trying to hold it in until Vasil is out of earshot.

“It was very close,” Damen defends, and Laurent finally lets himself succumb to a fit of giggles, and Nikandros finds himself laughing at that rather than Vasil’s pronunciation.

They manage to get through several more years without taking the boys on any large excursions, but eventually it becomes apparent that, as future king, Vasil should be exposed to both Arles and Ios. 

Nikandros tries to shut down Damen’s idea of them all going to Arles as a family. 

“Leon should see his country too,” Damen insists, “And I want you there with us,” he adds, and Nikandros can’t find it in himself to say no to that.

They have enough faith in their courtiers that it really isn’t a risk to leave Marlas in their hands. Nikandros’s true resistance comes from the fact that it’s a trip to  _ Arles _ . Not only that, but Leon had just turned ten a month prior, and his puberty seems to be coming on much stronger -- or perhaps just more apparent -- than Vasil’s.

The pet performances at Marlas are enough to have Leon drooling onto his food, unlike Vasil, who watches in almost terrifying disinterest, eyes dark and cast forward. Leon has become distracted in his training as well, which used to be one of the few times he had any focus at all.

But the trip is not just for Vasil to see the expanse of his kingdom, the politics of Vere-Akielos is starting to get messy in the former capitals. 

It’s finally time to dismantle the royal council still in Arles and place a lord there instead. Laurent has been bringing up Lord Berenger as a possible candidate, but Damen’s face sours a little at the name. 

The boys are both big enough now to ride their own ponies, although, on Nikandros’s insistence, they will be riding in a carriage for some of the trip. 

He allows them to ride their ponies for the final stretch, on Laurent’s insistence this time. The trek through town to palace is not as long or as open in Arles as it is in Ios, but just as in Ios, people line the streets to get a peek at their Kings and Crown Prince. 

Leon lets his awe at the palace show more than Vasil does, his jaw drops, whereas Vasil’s only reaction is a slight part of the lips. Nikandros schools his expression as he looks at the Veretian castle. It’s as impressive as it is foreign. Not as beautiful as the palace the Kings commissioned in Marlas, but more Veretian in style, therefore more gaudy.  

They are greeted by the remnants of the council and a few of the hopeful lords. The one he assumes to be Berenger looks the least excited at the prospect of becoming the Lord of Arles, and Nikandros thinks this must be why Laurent insists he is such a good fit. 

Pleasantries are exchanged, and then their horses are led to the stables, and they are led to rooms where they can rest and freshen up before the night’s celebratory dinner.

“Is that a pet?” he hears Leon ask Lazar behind him, nodding his head to the red-head beside Berenger.

Lazar must nod in response because Leon makes a thoughtful grunt. 

“Isn’t he kind of old?”

Nikandros realizes, with a sigh, that his son is much too loud for a Veretian court. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is self-indulgent, so I didn't let myself stress too much about the style or grammar, but if there's anything that really bugs you while reading, whether it's grammar or incorrect lore, let me know.
> 
> Comments keep me alive. <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan was originally for this chapter to go over the entirety of their teen years and also get a great deal darker, but instead it ended up being Leon's adventures in Arles. So the chapter count has gone up.

The entertainment for their first night in Arles is kept relatively tame. Something similar to what they’d have in Marlas for a celebration. Leon looks disappointed at this, and, despite Nikandros’s protests, he leaves the high table to go sit with the guard.

Some of the lords raise their eyebrows, whether at a ten-year-old joining the guards’ table or at Nikandros’s horrid parenting skills, he can’t be sure.

“Leon seems to be idolizing Lazar recently,” Laurent comments, thankfully quiet.

“Not sure if it’s better or worse than Makedon,” Nikandros responds, which makes Laurent smile into his goblet, which leads to Vasil straining his neck over Damen to try and hear what they’re talking about.

Damen must scold him for this because soon he straightens again with a frown and mutters something about the seating arrangement under his breath. Unbeknownst to Vasil, Laurent had been the one to insist Damen be seated between them.

Laurent started reacting coldly to many of Vasil’s affectionate behaviors soon after the trip to Arles was announced. Nikandros doesn’t understand the reasoning behind it, nor does he ask, but it seems to concern Damen and puts Vasil in uncharacteristically sour moods.

“Do you want to join Leon with the guard?” Damen asks. Nikandros knows that Damen would have jumped at such an opportunity when he was Vasil’s age, but Vasil’s reaction is that his frown turns to a scowl.

“Why would I want to eat with them?” Vasil questions, every word wrapped in venom, “They’re rude and loud and have nothing to add to any worthwhile conversation.”

Laurent gives Vasil a stern look, which makes his expression go soft.

“Sorry, Pater,” Vasil mutters to Damen, “That was not polite of me.”

Damen gives his son a pat on the shoulder with a smile, and Nikandros turns his attention back to his own son.

He’s causing a riot of laughter at the guards’ table. Lazar is looking at Leon, beaming with pride. Nikandros takes a long sip of wine.

In the following days he sees very little of Leon and Vasil. Their arrival may have been marked with a celebration, but it was not an indicator for the rest of their trip.

It seems every second of his day is spent in a meeting.

“I’m Kyros of Marlas and Delpha,” Nikandros tries to argue to Damen, “Not of Arles.”

Damen fixes him with a look that reminds Nikandros of Laurent, “You are much more than just a Kyros these days,” he tells him, “And you know that.”

Nikandros sighs in compliance. He isn’t sure what he is these days. It’s odd, he thinks, that despite spending the majority of his time around a married couple, he does not feel left out or lonely. He has his lovers, occasionally, usually on trips away from Marlas, and he never sees them more than a night.

His time is monopolized by his kings, the crown prince, and his own son. It’s enough to keep a man occupied through several lifetimes.

There are rumors, he hears from time to time, that he is _together_ with Laurent and Damen, but Nikandros pays them no mind, except to be a bit more mindful of the way he acts towards his kings.

It should come as no surprise, that it’s in Arles when Vasil finally hears those rumors.

He’s working alone, reading over ledgers that Laurent thought might be incorrect, when Vasil approaches him.

Had it been anyone else, he might have been snuck up on, but Vasil still has not learned how to walk without waking the entire palace.

He takes a seat across from him, looking much too serious for a boy his age.

“Nikandros,” he begins, as if addressing his subjects before a speech, “One of the lords said something in the gardens.”

Nikandros feels uneasy just at that. There are many things said in Arles that would be unpleasant for Vasil to overhear.

“What did they say?” he asks him, and Vasil takes a deep breath before continuing.

“They,” he pauses, trying to find the right word, “ _suggested_ that you and my Papa had,” he pauses again, face scrunching up as he looks down at his hands, clasped sweatily together in front of him, “had relations,” he finishes, and then quickly adds, “Pater too! They said my Pater too.”

Nikandros swallows, trying to find the words to answer Vasil as delicately as he’d been questioned.

“No,” he says after a while, mainly so his silence cannot be seen as confirmation, “Your parents, my kings. They are monogamous, very much so. Even more than most of the married lords and ladies. They do not even take pets.”

Vasil frowns, “What does that mean?”

“What?”

“Mono-go-mose.”

“Monogamous,” Nikandros corrects, “It means they only love each other. Only have, er, relations, as you put it, with each other.”

Vasil nods but does not look very convinced.

“That’s not what Leon said,” he finally tells him.

Nikandros’s eyebrows knit together, and he can’t stop the exasperated, “What?” from leaving his mouth.

Vasil takes that as sign to continue.

“He said,” his hands ball into fists on top of the desk, “He said that you are all his babas, so why shouldn’t you all be together like that!”

Nikandros is sure that if Vasil had Laurent’s complexion, he’d be as red as a tomato.

Nikandros is the opposite, he can feel the color drain from his face at the shock of his own son’s claims.

“And I told him,” Vasil begins and then stops to take a few deep breaths. Nikandros has never seen him this worked up.

“What did you tell him?” Nikandros asks, as calm as he can manage.

“I told him that _you_ are his baba. That Papa and Pater are mine. And he said that that’s not fair! Why should I get two babas when he only has one, he said!”

Nikandros nods. That certainly sounds like Leon.

“So I told him. I told him that we are brothers but that my papa is not his. I told him he should stop calling my papa his baba, and then he started crying! Like a baby!”

Vasil is sniffling himself now, but Nikandros doesn’t comment.

“And your pater too?”

Vasil looks, for a moment, confused, “What about my pater?”

“You told Leon to stop calling him baba too?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to remember, “Yes, I think so. But it is more important with Papa,” he tells him, a very determined expression on his face.

“How so?”

Vasil wipes his nose against his sleeve before continuing, “Because he is stealing all of my Papa’s time!”

Nikandros is genuinely confused by that, “Leon prefers training and playing to Laurent’s tutoring sessions.”

Vasil looks at him like he’s just said the most unintelligent thing in existence, “It does not matter what he prefers!”

“It doesn’t?” he asks, mostly because Nikandros speaking seems to keep Vasil’s anger from getting any worse.

“No!” he tells him, gesticulating his frustrations, “Because, because,” he sniffles loudly, “Because Leon is dim!”

Nikandros frowns at that accusation, and if it wasn't Vasil making it he would immediately argue. Sure, he is a little slow when it comes to reading or writing, but it is more a matter of focus than actual intelligence.

“And so Papa always has to help him! He says I am fine on my own and to write down my questions to ask him later, and then all he can focus on is Leon! I told them to get Leon a new tutor, but Leon is too dumb for anyone but Papa to teach, so instead they got _me_ a new tutor.”

“They got you a tutor because your studies are at the point where they take up too much time for Laurent on his own,” Nikandros tells him, “Not because Laurent is helping Leon.”

Vasil doesn’t seem pleased with this explanation, instead his face scrunches up in anger again, “Why do you call him that?”

“What?”

“ _Laurent._ ”

Nikandros blinks at him.

“You should address him properly. Maybe then people wouldn’t suspect what they do,” with that, he pushes up from his chair and stomps off, even louder than usual.

Nikandros doesn’t bring up the conversation explicitly, but he does comment to Damen that his son has been acting unpleasant.

“He’s going through a phase,” Damen assures him with a frown.

Nikandros doesn’t feel assured.

But he is busy enough with the problems his own son is causing that he lets it go.

The very next night he is chased down in a hallway with a yell of, “Your son!”

Nikandros turns around to see the red-haired pet, his name is Ancel, if Nikandros’s memory serves him correctly. He hopes it does. The last thing he needs is to anger the pet even further by calling him the wrong name.

“Your son is stealing my things!” the pet continues, jabbing a dainty, pale finger in his direction, “First my rings go missing right off my hand. And then jewels go missing from my room. I am missing almost _half_ of my jewelry collection.”

Nikandros sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “You think,” he begins, “that my _ten-year-old_ son is stealing rings off of your person? And sneaking into your chambers? That are guarded?” he pauses, for that to sink in, and hopes it is not too obvious that he actually thinks these accusations are very likely, “Have you seen him?”

Ancel looks like he’d rather slap him than answer his questions, “I’ve found his hair,” he answers, “in my rooms. He sheds even worse than you.”

Nikandros frowns. This is the first he’s been accused of shedding.

“That’s all you have to go off of?”

Ancel retreats his jabbing finger and curls his hand into a fist. He looks like he’s about to say something but then thinks better of it.

“You are better at lying than most Akielons. Either that or you’re even worse a father than what they’ve been saying, which I didn’t think possible.”

Nickandros sighs again and watches Ancel disappear around the corner before b-lining it straight to where Lazar is stationed.

“It would be a better use of your skills to teach Vasil how to move without sounding like an entire army,” he begins sternly, “Instead of teaching thievery.”

Lazar’s responding laughter makes him angrier than Ancel’s accusations.

“Vasil doesn’t like me enough to listen to me. Says I make too many crude jokes about King Laurent.”

Nikandros isn’t surprised that Vasil told him as much, “He still spars with you.”

Lazar shrugs, “Well, yeah, half the time the jokes are to motivate him to put in some real effort in the ring,” he seems to sense Nikandros’s disapproval at his methods, and changes the subject back to Leon, “Anyways, you should be proud of your son, he’s a natural.”

Nikandros takes a deep breath, “Could you at least tell him to terrorize someone else?”

Leon pops out from his hiding spot, too fast for Nikandros to see exactly where that hiding spot was.

“He’s the most fun,” Leon protests, “It’s funny when he is angry. He turns red so quickly! His face matches his hair, Baba!”

Nikandros steadies Leon’s bouncing form with two hands on his shoulders, and he crouches down to be eye-level with him.

“No more stealing.”

Leon pouts, but eventually mutters, “Fine, Baba. No more,” and then he squirms his way out of Nikandros’s grasp and out of his sight.

“I’ll make sure he stops,” Lazar tells him with a grin.

“For some reason,” Nikandros deadpans, “I don’t believe you.”

Sure enough, Leon doesn’t stop.

Instead, he makes a very public show of gifting Laurent one of Ancel’s necklaces, much to Laurent’s amusement. Ancel’s bracelets keep ending up on the necks of the palace cats, and all of Arles seems to find it hilarious.

The cats, as it turns out, are good for more than jewelry storage and catching mice. They also manage to get Vasil and Leon to get along again.

Nikandros doesn’t understand their sudden fascination with the cats at first, but he doesn’t question it. It has Leon teaching Vasil how to move quietly so he can approach the skittish creatures, and it has them playing together again.

The fascination makes a little more sense when Nikandros follows them down to one of the kitchen’s storage rooms.

Leon is holding a sack of something, and they’re both creeping through the hallways, looking like boys who do not want to be followed. They shut the door behind them when they reach their destination, not even bothering to check if they were followed. Nikandros can hear the chorus of mews as soon as he approaches the door.

He listens to them speak to each other in hushed tones for a while, before finally revealing himself and entering the room.

They look up at him with wide eyes. Vasil has a lap full of squirming kittens, and Leon is holding out a piece of (very expensive) meat to the sole mother cat. She takes it lazily from him, unbothered by Nikandros’s presence, unlike the two boys.

“This is,” Nikandros begins, as a mewling kitten climbs over his foot, “A lot of cats.”

“We saved them,” Vasil tells him, very serious and proud.

“You did now?”

“There was a mama cat outside too,” Leon tells him, “But she died. And the babies were crying.”

Nikandros manages to find a place clear of kittens to sit.

“So we went to Ba-... We went to King Laurent and asked him what to do,” Leon continues.

“I went,” Vasil corrects, “Leon stayed with the kittens.”

Leon nods, “So Vasil came back with King Laurent, and he told us the babies were too little to survive without their mama,” he looks close to tears as he recounts the story, “But he told us that there was another mama cat, down here, and that if we helped her, then she might be able to be a mama to the outside babies, too.”

“We took them down here in a crate,” Vasil tells him, very matter-of-fact, “And Leon found a ton of blankets for the mama and the babies. And he found meat for the mama too.”

Nikandros nods, thinking there might be a better word than “found” for how Leon came by these things.

“And then the mama cat had MORE babies!” Leon tells him excitedly.

Vasil nods as he pets the kittens.

“But we had to keep it a secret,” Vasil tells him, “Because Laurent says some people might not be happy to have all these cats in the palace.”

Nikandros nods in understanding. He can’t help but pity the servants who will have to deal with thieving cats in the years to come. He isn’t sure any palace has enough mice to feed what looks like even more than the three litters of cats Vasil and Leon are aware of.

“Well you don’t have to keep it a secret from me,” Nikandros assures them, and Leon’s face lights up with a grin.

“I want to take them home!” Leon announces.

“You can’t take all of them,” Vasil informs him, which causes Leon’s grin to lessen.

“Half?” he asks, but Vasil still looks skeptical.

“Maybe a few,” Nikandros tells him, and Leon looks disappointed for as long as one can while mewling kittens are crawling all over their lap.

The next time he sees Laurent he can’t help but comment, “It’s a lot of cats.”

Laurents hums in agreement, while Damen’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What’s a lot of cats?” he asks.

Laurents ignores Damen’s question to instead address Nikandros, “It’s keeping them busy and from fighting.

“Are you talking about the cats with the bracelets?” Damen interjects, Laurent pats him gently on his thigh.

“I’ll show you later,” he promises, and Damen is left bewildered through the entire meeting.

It comes as no surprise to Nikandros, that as soon as Damen learns of the storage room full of kittens, it is almost impossible to get him to focus on anything else.

Vasil offers to go to meetings with Laurent in place of Damen, and Laurent looks disappointed with himself, as if he has made some sort of a mistake.

Luckily, things eventually start to settle. Berenger has been chosen to be the lord of Arles, which has him looking a little frazzled at all times now, and a few courtiers are invited to come serve as advisors in Marlas. Even more are turned away from the court entirely.

Nikandros wants to yell his excitement to the heavens when they start making plans for their return to Marlas. Not only is he tired of Veretian rumors and politics, but a chill is starting to form in the air, earlier than Nikandros is used to.

Leon is not as thrilled when he hears the news.

“In just a week?” he whines, and Nikandros nods.

“Make sure you give Ancel back all his things before we leave,” he reminds him, which gets him out of his melancholy mood in an instant.

“He’s letting me keep a lot of them!” he tells him with a grin, and Nikandros tries not to show his doubt on his face.

He’s met with a surprise, when he attempts to get certain proof of Leon’s lie.

Leon is with Ancel in a sunny courtyard, but he doesn’t look like he’s annoying the life out of the pet, instead, he’s sitting with minor fidgeting as Ancel strings beads into his hair and then braids it.

Nikandros is in complete awe at the final result. It’s the first time anyone’s managed to get all of Leon’s hair pulled back as one. There are no stubborn curls still falling in his face, and even when Leon gets up from the bench with springy bounces, it all stays in place. When he was younger he might have retched at the idea of his son’s hair braided back prettily, with shimmering beads strung through it in the style of Veretian pets.

But now, when Leon sees him and bounces over and asks him what he thinks, it’s with genuine adoration that he tells him it is very pretty, and that he should do his best to keep it nice.

Ancel watches him with a bored expression as he approaches.

“Thank you,” he tells him, “For putting up with him.”

Ancel looks indifferent to his thanks, “He’s much more charming than you.”

It does not take long for Ancel to tire of Leon’s infatuation.

Less than two days.

And of course Nikandros has to hear all of the complaints he has about his son.

“He never stops talking!” Ancel whines, “Just constant yapping! Like an untrained dog. Can you get him a leash? I swear I’ve seen someone in town keep their child on a leash.”

“I’m not getting him a leash.”

Ancel groans, “Could you at least tell him to stop asking my age?”

Nikandros shrugs, “Alright,” he says, “But how old _are_ you?”

The goblet that’s tossed his way feels wholly deserved.

Ancel tries his best to redirect Leon’s attention. He finds what is probably the prettiest pet in Arles and introduces him to Leon.

“This is Ellis,” Ancel tells him sweetly, and Leon looks between him and Ancel suspiciously, “He’s a pet, too,” Ancel adds.

“Hello, little lion,” Ellis greets Leon with a dazzling smile, but he says it in a voice people reserve for infants and babes, which has Leon frowning as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“Are you as old as Ancel?” Leon asks him as Ancel himself slips away.

Ellis shakes his head, and seems to be waiting patiently for Leon’s next question. Leon has a look on his face that tells Nikandros he’s scouring his brain for the a question that’ll break Ellis’s sweet composure.

Nikandros sighs and steps in before he can find one.

“Whose pet are you?” he asks Ellis, and the boy -- if Nikandros didn’t know how strict the laws were now he would suspect he was under 18 -- looks confused at his question.

His hazel eyes flit nervously between Leon and Nikandros.

“Yours?” he says, uncertainly, but is quick to realize Nikandros is not pleased by that answer, “Ancel’s?”

“You’re a pet’s pet?”

“Baba, you’re upsetting him,” Leon interjects.

Good, is Nikandros’s first thought, but then he looks at the pet’s wide eyes and Leon’s frown and recollects himself.

He was never stern with his slaves, when he had them. And pets, he reminds himself, are not so different. Ellis was just doing as Ancel had told him and was probably overjoyed at the promise of entering a household of someone so high in power.

“Leon, go to your rooms for a bit,” he instructs him, even if he has very little faith he will follow the order.

With Leon out of the room, he looks at Ellis again. The boy looks even more terrified with Leon gone, probably thinking that he’ll experience Nikandros’s true anger now that the boy is gone.

“You,” he addresses the pet, “Stay here. I’ll go sort this out.”

Ancel is easy enough to find. Berenger has a meeting with the kings to sort out more financial issues, -- it turns out Arles has been a giant sinkhole for money in the past few years, what a surprise -- and sure enough Ancel is there, lounging against Berenger’s side.

It is one of the most dramatic things he’s done, barge into a meeting to question someone. But, when in Arles…

“Did you really just try to gift my son a pet?”

He doesn’t expect for Damen to shoot out of his seat, “He did what?”

Ancel detaches himself from Berenger and stands, “It wasn’t meant like _that_ ,” he protests, “You really think I would tell a pet to fuck a child?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Damen sneers.

This is why Nikandros should never be dramatic.

Berenger stands to be the voice of reason, when Damen and Ancel continue to shout at each other, and Laurent seems content to sit and watch as if he’s at the theatre.

“Clearly, this is all a misunderstanding. Nikandros, the pet is meant to be a companion, not a whore,” he turns to his own pet then, “And Ancel, you cannot speak to a King like that, nor should you gift children pets.”

Ancel looks like he’s about to argue his point again, but Berenger speaks before he can, “It’s time for us to retire,” he gives his kings a short bow, “I hope you will forgive us for the trouble.”

Damen still looks like he’s ready for a fight even after they’ve left the room.

For all his annoyance with the boy at their first meeting, Leon is delighted at the idea of Ellis sticking around.

“He’s going to be my pet?” he asks excitedly, “Like Ancel is to Lord Berger?”

“Lord Berenger, and no,” Nikandros tells him, “I’ve accepted his contract, but he will not be a pet.”

Leon doesn’t look as excited. Ellis hadn’t either when Nikandros had told him the terms.

“He’s to be an extra companion for you,” Nikandros tells him. The word he’d used when describing the role to Ellis was “caretaker,” but that would make Leon wrinkle his nose in disgust, “A friend.”

“A friend that you’re paying?” Leon questions.

“Yes, like a pet, but age-appropriate.”

Leon frowns, “So nothing like the performances.”

“No,” Nikandros tells him firmly. He had already told this to Ellis in much plainer terms, “And if he tries or suggests any of that, then you tell me or a guard, alright?”

Leon nods, fidgeting in place as if to warn Nikandros he won’t have his attention much longer, “Alright.”

He finds it all great fun, to introduce Ellis to everyone. Lazar finds it very amusing, that Leon has somehow managed to get his very own pet, and Leon finds it amusing to tell him grand, made-up stories of how it came to be.

Vasil looks at Ellis with a discerning gaze and then tells him he is not as pretty as his Papa.

Leon’s response is, “No one is,” which has a group of ladies nearby clutching their chests and fake swooning. Ellis does not seem as amused.

By the end of the first day of being pulled around the palace by Leon, Ellis looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.

Leon tires of Ellis after that first day. Ellis doesn’t seem to mind; he is perfectly content to lounge alone in the sun with a book of poetry -- which Leon, of course, told him was boring.

Instead, with the realization he only has a few days left in Arles, Leon turns his attention back to Ancel.

He convinces Ancel to let him braid his hair, which goes horribly wrong, and only gets worse when Leon tries to get the knots out by himself. Nikandros also makes it worse, when Ancel complains that he is just standing there doing nothing.

After that he tries to hide from Leon by spending his entire day with Berenger in the library. It does not work because Laurent and Nikandros are also in the library, having impromptu meetings with Berenger, which means when Leon is told to go to his father, he stumbles upon Ancel.

Leon’s eyes light up when he sees him, and Ancel sighs is resignation and puts his hair into a careful bun.

Leon squeezes himself onto the cushioned bench Ancel is sharing with Berenger, which causes Berenger to move rather than try to tell Leon to.

Ancel watches him leave and looks thoroughly betrayed.

Laurent seems more interested in watching Leon bug Ancel than continuing to discuss anything of great importance, so he shifts the conversation to be about horses, which is more than enough to completely distract Berenger from his pet’s sufferings.

Leon has already asked his usual question of, “How old are you?” which Ancel, of course, tells him he doesn’t need to know.

“How long have you been a pet?” Leon asks instead.

“A while.”

Leon frowns, “How long is a while?”

“A decent amount of time.”

Leon only looks more confused, “The time is decent?”

Ancel also looks a little confused, “With Berenger it has been, yes.”

“Have you always been Berger’s pet?”

“Berenger,” Ancel corrects, “And no.”

“Does Burjur have other pets?”

“Berenger,” Ancel corrects again, rather loudly, and the mentioned lord stops in the middle of describing his newest mare.

“What was that?” he asks, and Ancel groans and buries his head in his hands.

“I asked him if you had other pets,” Leon says to Berenger.

“I don’t,” Berenger answers then goes back to his discussion with Laurent.

Leon’s full attention turns back to Ancel.

“Why are you still a pet?”

“Because I like being a pet.”

“Why don’t you and Bururjur get married?”

Ancel looks confused by that question, “A lord doesn’t just marry a pet.”

“Why not?”

“They just don’t.”

Leon seems to think on this for a bit.

“Can a Kyros marry a pet?”

Ancel groans again, “I don’t know what a Kyros is.”

“My Baba’s a Kyros.”

Ancel looks over at Nikandros, and seems to decide Kyroi are unimpressive.

“I don’t know what your ‘baba’ does, so I still don’t know what a Kyros is.”

Leon looks very deep in thought, as if he’d never thought about what exactly it was a Kyros was either, “He reads a lot.”

“Sounds a lot like a lord then.”

“I think they are similar,” Leon concludes with a nod.

“Then a Kyros would probably not marry a pet.”

Leon seems to think this a great deal of information to think on before he finally speaks again.

“Can a Kyros marry a Lord?”

Laurent disguises his laugh as a cough.

Ancel seems thoroughly perplexed by the question, which makes him angry, “How would I know?!”

Leon shrugs.

“My baba is not married,” Leon tells Ancel quietly, as if it’s a secret. He might be able to move without a sound, but he’s not very good at whispering.

“I don’t care.”

“You can’t marry him,” Leon informs him, “Because he is a Kyros. And you are a pet.”

“I don’t want to marry your father.”

“Lazar said that too.”

Laurent fails to keep his laughter in that time.

When it is finally time for them to leave, Leon gives Ancel a basket full of the ginger kittens from the various litters, and gets to take home a cage of the three largest himself.

Vasil keeps telling him they won’t survive the trip, which gets him a scolding from Laurent every time. Vasil’s solution is to just start saying it quieter.

To Leon’s delight, the kittens all survive. Vasil tries to convince him that the kittens did die and that Damen and Laurent replaced the kittens at one of the towns they stopped at.

Nikandros expects Leon to cry at this, but instead of wailing he hears the smack of a punch. Lazar is quick to pull Leon off of Vasil, which Nikandros is incredibly thankful for; he was too shocked to react himself.

“You’re angry because you know it’s true,” Vasil spits while blood pours from his nose. From what Nikandros can see, it doesn’t look broken, but he doesn’t have the best view.

“Stop antagonizing him,” Damen scolds as he pulls Vasil up by his arm. Damen doesn’t look overly concerned when he gets a look at the damage, but it could also be that he’s angry enough that a broken nose is not at all concerning.

Damen drags Vasil off to see the physician, and Laurent watches it all with a frown. Nikandros doesn’t know how the lines of that expression are not permanent yet.

“No one switched the kittens, Leon,” he finally says, as if that is the most pressing issue in all of this, “You cared for them well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, let me know if there are any super annoying grammar mistakes!
> 
> Comments give me life <3


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